


The Games

by Daegaer



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Demons, Humor, M/M, Olympics, Television Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-14
Updated: 2004-08-14
Packaged: 2020-06-09 13:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer





	The Games

"What a gorgeous parade," Aziraphale said, helping himself to more of Crowley's wine. "That fellow doing the aerial stuff must be getting tired though, don't you think?"

"Hmm," Crowley said non-committally. "Are you sure you want to watch _all_ of this? Wouldn't you rather have watched it at home? Where you know you have the right sort of biscuits?"

"Oh, but your TV is so much bigger, and has a better reception. And it's colour," Aziraphale said cheerfully.

Crowley sighed and sank further down on the sofa, closing his eyes. It was hard to sleep with the commentary both from the TV and beside him, so eventually he sat up again, and glared at the athletes parading around.

"Are those even real countries?" he asked.

"Stop pretending you don't keep up with politics. Ooh, look, isn't her dress _pretty?_ "

"Things were easier to follow when just a few countries owned most of the world," Crowley said. "Maybe I should give American cultural imperialism another push."

"Don't you dare. Unless you want me to make sure you never drink anything but California wines for the next hundred years?"

"Fine, fine," Crowley grumbled. "But you needn't think you're going to stay here glued to my TV till the bloody Olympics are over."

"I wouldn't dream of imposing, my dear," Aziraphale said, "just for the athletics and the gymnastics, and maybe the swimming."

"Of course," Crowley said in a sly voice, "just the skimpily-clothed events. Takes you back to the good old days, eh? With all those young men competing in the nude?"

"Really, Crowley," Aziraphale said, his gaze fixed firmly on the screen, "I don't know where you get such ideas about me."

"No? How about the fact that you had a lifetime gym membership before gym memberships had been invented?"

"They conducted _politics_ in the gym," Aziraphale said huffily, ignoring the sniggers beside him. "And I was certainly thinking of watching the ladies' events as well."

"That's it, broaden your horizons," Crowley said. "Wake me up when it's over."

"Do you want to see the news afterwards?"

"No, I mean when the closing ceremonies are over." He closed his eyes firmly again and willed himself to sleep. It was difficult not to wake up when an excited squeal of "Oooh, _Bjork_!" came from beside him, but he grimly persevered. Bloody unity and international goodwill. Huh.


End file.
